Last night was great. I mean really, really great. I can't ever recall sticking my finger in so many people's faces in such a short period of time. It was a three hour party, and it was the best one of my life. As I was driving home from Riverside after our boys once again exposed Luongo for the fraud he is, I threw on the greatest song ever written.
The lyrics don't do Mr. Delp justice - but there is one verse that stuck out to me.
So many people have come and gone
Their faces fade as the years go by
Yet I still recall as I wander on
As clear as the sun in the summer sky
There is no collection of people that know the suffering Bruins fans have endured the last 39 years moreso than the group in this forum. Too many men. Petr Klima. Mayday. Tim Taylor. Scott Walker. 3-0. While the details of each series aren't exactly fresh in our memories, the pain is reinforced tenfold every time the Bruins of the past have found a way to lose in increasingly heartbreaking fashion.
There are 60 minutes standing between the Bruins and both the erasure and validation of all these hardships.
Wednesday, June 15 2011 has the chance to be the greatest day of many of our lives - certainly mine. In the way stand a greasy I-talian with a glove made of provolone, a whiny, emo dirtbag who disgraces this great nation, and a couple of ginger Swedish meatballs.
Wednesday, we will not be denied. Tim Thomas, David Krejci, Zdeno Chara, Milan Lucic, Dennis Seidenberg, Patrice Bergeron, Andrew Ference, Brad Marchand, and, in his last NHL game, Mark Recchi will not fucking be denied. Wednesday, we rape and pillage the city of Vancouver with our massive hockey schlongs.
Protect the Civic. Kill the Canucks. Win the game. Bring home Lord Stanley's Cup.
Edited by PedroSpecialK, 14 June 2011 - 08:18 AM.